


keep the kid gloves off (give her something more)

by MoraMew



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Almost Hooking Up, Alternate Universe - College/University, Drinking, F/M, Making Out, Pet Names, a quick mention of KyouYachi but nothing much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:01:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24434767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoraMew/pseuds/MoraMew
Summary: Yachi reaches out to curl her fingers into his shirt and pulls her head back, having just enough sense left to wonder over who this stranger- this man who isn’t treating her like some child who will balk at being touched but like an actualadultinstead- even is.
Relationships: Matsukawa Issei/Yachi Hitoka
Comments: 12
Kudos: 79





	keep the kid gloves off (give her something more)

Yachi isn’t quite sure how she ended up like this.  
  
She’s pressed against the wall of a house she doesn’t know the address to, alcohol in her veins and a knee slotted between her thighs, a stranger’s lips hungrily devouring hers. There’s a party going on around them and unfamiliar music pumping through her mind, a warmth filling her that makes Yachi want to lose herself. This stranger is tall and handsome and his hands dwarf her waist and, honestly, how did this happen?  
  
And is he _really_ a stranger? He’s familiar in some sort of way- his sleepy eyes and curly hair, the staggering height that towers over her is familiar somehow. She knows him vaguely, maybe. Or knows of him? She’s not sure.  
  
Yachi blinks up at him when he pulls back from her lips and his mouth quirks into a half-smirk, a hand reaching to cup her face and his thumb smoothing over the bone of her cheek.  
  
“You wanna…?”  
  
He trails the question off and jerks his head toward the stairs, finishing it off with that little motion. Yachi knows what he means even if he doesn’t say the words and her breathing turns a bit shallow, her throat swallowing around some surprised noise.  
  
People don’t ask her if she wants to go upstairs. She’s not one of  _ those  _ girls. She doesn’t get lusted after and she doesn’t get invited to hook up. Even when she’s been hormone addled and sending needy signals, she’s been sent off before with pats to the head and chaste kisses to her cheeks. Too wide eyed, too sweet looking- she’s always been brushed off as a bit too innocent to have carnal desires. No one ever tries to pull her into bed.  
  
She must be quiet for too long because his smirk fades a little and a thick brow raises up, his head tilting to the side.  
  
“If you don’t want to…”  
  
Yachi blinks and she’s vaguely aware of the flush on her cheeks, the way her heart is picking up in speed. She’s got just enough pent up tension and alcohol in her to shake her head and she quickly- maybe a bit nervously- reaches a hand out and smooths it down his chest.  
  
“No- no. Um, that- that sounds good.”  
  
It comes out more high pitched and timid than she wants, but his lips tilt into a grin and he steps back from her, moving his knee from between her thighs and wrapping his hand around her wrist. (And so easily too. Goodness, he’s so  _ big _ . Not bulky but just-  _ big _ )  
  
When he tugs her away from the wall, it’s like a bubble pops and Yachi is suddenly aware of the fact that there are other people chattering and drinking around them and that she is at only her second university party and that she doesn’t know the name of the man leading her to the stairs and that this is the first time she’s ever done  _ this _ .  
  
It’s not her first time doing  _ things _ \- she’s been with men (and one girl) before. She’s kissed, she’s touched, she’s had sex. But she’s never done it on impulse and she’s never done it with a stranger.  
  
It’s a bit thrilling, in a way.  
  
The first room they peek in is occupied and so is the second. The third one seems as if it will be alright but then two boys pop up from the side of the bed and Yachi gets tugged along to a fourth room.  
  
Waiting to find a place gives time for her nerves to build up and Yachi finds herself nibbling at her bottom lip by the time he leads her triumphantly into the room. When he reaches behind her to close the door, her heart beats in double time and something shakes in her chest at the sound of the lock clicking in place.  
  
They’re doing this. She’s doing this. It’ll be okay. It’ll be fine. People do this all time. And he’s an exceptional kisser with a smirk that makes her lashes want to flutter and her toes curl- it’ll be enjoyable, she thinks.  
  
She hopes.  
  
“C’mere, baby doll.”  
  
Baby doll.  
  
Yachi shivers at the pet name and lets him pull her toward the bed, pliant and receptive to the action. It’s been  _ so long _ since anyone has called her something like that and it brings back so many good memories of whispered praises and coaxes in her ear.  
  
Kyoutani always called her baby girl. And he was her first  _ everything _ . That nickname is carved directly into whatever controls her lust, is a direct ticket to get her wet and wanting. And it’s a variation, this pet name, but it sends a little shiver down her spine just the same.  
  
She hopes he keeps using it.  
  
When they get to the bed, he pulls her ahead of him and pushes her down to the mattress. It startles her- no one has really pushed her around before; not even Kyoutani- and she breathes in sharp, eyes widening just a bit and something a little thrilled snapping through her. He’s on her in a second, hands dwarfing her face and lips pressing against hers. She doesn’t have time to think about the push or the bit of excitement shooting through her and gets lost instead in the way he still tastes like liquor she can’t name, how his hands move to run through her hair and how his fingers curl in it, tugging just so.  
  
The little pinpricks of pain makes her gasp, but it’s a  _ good  _ sort of gasp and it makes him pull a little harder to drag a whimper from her.  
  
No one’s ever pulled her hair before. No one’s ever treated her anything but gently before. Even Kyoutani- Mad Dog of Seijoh, Mr. Rough and Tough- always handled her with velvet gloves. She’s always been handled like something that might break, like some pretty, fragile little porcelain doll that might shatter if played with too hard. It’s new, this.  
  
She thinks she might like it.  
  
Yachi reaches out to curl her fingers into his shirt and pulls her head back, having just enough sense left to wonder over who this stranger- this man who isn’t treating her like some child who will balk at being touched but like an actual  _ adult  _ instead- even is.  
  
“Wha- What’s your name?” she breathes out, a trace of a moan rippling through the words.  
  
His response doesn’t come right away. A hand goes to the nape of her neck instead and he grips at the hair there, tugging on it so her head tilts back and a gasp leaves her. His lips find her neck and there’s a little bite given to her throat, teeth grazing along a tendon and tongue flicking over the marks he’s left behind.  
  
“Matsukawa,” he tells her, mumbling it as his lips brush along her neck. “‘It’s a mouthful, though. You can call me Issei.”  
  
Issei. Matsukawa. Why is his name so familiar?  
  
Yachi goes to ask if they know each other but then he nips at her neck and she’s momentarily distracted by the sensation and misses her chance. He nips again after she gasps, harder to make her whine.  
  
“Yours?” he asks, breath hot against her throat. “What’s your name, baby doll?”  
  
_ Baby doll _ .  
  
Yachi curls her fingers into the covers and arches her back, desperately tries to keep herself from falling into this- whatever  _ this  _ is- so quickly.  
  
“Yach-  _ oh _ . Um, Yachi,” she breathes out, breath hitching when his fingers tug at her hair. “Yachi- Yachi Hitoka.”  
  
“Pretty name,” Matsukawa tells her, nosing up and nipping at her ear lobe. “You sure you’re cool with this?”  
  
God is she  _ ever _ .  
  
Yachi shivers and nods, moves her hands to his back and runs her hands over it, melts a bit when she feels the muscles underneath his shirt.  
  
It’s been so long for her and goodness is she  _ weak _ .  
  
And, besides- when will she ever get the courage for something like this again?  
  
“What are you into?” he asks her, lips finding her jawline. He moves to mouth down to her neck again and Yachi tries not to squirm at the question, bites back a mewl when his tongue traces down to her collarbone. “What do you like?”  
  
What  _ does  _ she like?  
  
A confused sort of noise leaves her before she can help it and Matsukawa grazes his teeth along her clavicle before pulling back up. She flushes underneath his gaze and tries not to pout her shyness, brings a hand close to her mouth and curls her fingers near her lips. He seems to like that and tilts his head as he runs his gaze over her, licks his lips before he brushes her fringe from her forehead.  
  
“You’re cute,” he mumbles to her. “I just wanna-”  
  
Yachi doesn’t get to hear what he wants, because the statement is interrupted by two men c _ rashing through the door _ \- fists flying and yells covering up anything else. Yachi shrieks at the sudden intrusion and jerks up, almost smashing her face into Matsukawa. He swears and then he’s off her, a hand going to her wrist and tugging her from the bed, away from the commotion. The men keep fighting and they’re clearly drunk- _so drunk_ \- and a crowd of people peer into the room, cheer the brawlers on.  
  
All at once Yachi feels terribly sober and terribly nervous, like she wants to go home and leave this party behind.  
  
The fighters fall further into the room and Matsukawa puts an in front of Yachi, pushes her gently against the wall in what she thinks is supposed to be a way to shield her from the violence. She just barely hears the “goddammit” that slips from him and bites into her lip, shrinks against the wall and tries not to whimper.  
  
Oh, this is so awful.  
  
"Come on,” Matsukawa mumbles to her, not looking as he reaches a hand to circle around her wrist and inch closer to the door. “Let me get you out of here.”  
  
Yachi nods, flinching as one of the guys gets slammed into the closet by the other. Matsukawa pulls her away, his grip maybe a bit too tight, and Yachi follows after him the best she can, upset enough to want to cry when she’s tugged through the crowd and elbowed by a drunk, cheering party-goer.  
  
It’s such a relief when they’re out of the thicket of an audience.  
  
Matsukawa still keeps his hand around her wrist and she’s glad for it; it helps stabilize her, just a little, and keeps her from panicking too much as he leads her down the stairs and out onto the porch. It’s so much more quiet outside and it’s so much nicer, but her legs are still shaking and her heart is still pounding too quickly and now everything is _ruined_ and she doesn’t know what to do.  
  
“Shit,” Matsukawa sighs out, finally letting go of her wrist and running a hand through his hair. He glances down at her and Yachi flushes under his gaze, ducks her head when his eyes roam over her face. “You okay?”  
  
She nods in answer to him. She _is_ okay, if a little shaken, and she wouldn’t tell him if she wasn’t. It’s not something she can just say to an almost one night stand.  
  
“I’m okay,” she mumbles quietly, gathering up her courage to look up at him. It feels terribly awkward now and she doesn’t know what to do or say. “Are, um, are you alright?”  
  
Matsukawa nods and he sighs, hand sliding to rub the back of his neck as he looks out at the street.  
  
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he tells her. It takes a moment, but then he looks back at her and Yachi is left with quiet awkwardness when she doesn’t know what to say to him. “Are you…going home?”   
  
Yachi bites her lip and she feels a flicker of the desire from before, looks up at him and wonders if that desire can make her brave.   
  
Miracle of miracles- it does.   
  
“I-”   
  
“Issei! Issei- we gotta _go_!”   
  
The sudden call startles them both and Yachi jumps a little when she’s nearly ran into by someone tall and panting, watches with wide eyes as the stranger grabs onto Matsukawa and shakes him.   
  
“Fucking Terushima is getting into another fight,” the guy groans out. “We got to grab him and _go_! Someone was callin’ the fucking cops.”   
  
Terushima? Go?   
  
Yachi blinks as she listens, heart sinking a little. The bravery she had managed to scrounge up falters and she finds herself so disappointed in that, finds herself frowning- almost pouting when she realizes that she won’t be able to act upon it.   
  
And she had been doing so well too…   
  
“Shit,” Matsukawa swears, rubbing the back of his neck. He glances over at Yachi and Yachi bites her lip, tries not to let her frustration show.   
  
It could have been such a good time. She could have had _fun_.   
  
Disappointment doubles down and it’s paired with a sudden petulance as well- something that has her bravery rising back up in the form of frustration, selfish want.   
  
He was going to treat her like she was more than some fragile little thing. He was going to give her the decency of treating her like an actual _adult_ instead of something innocent, breakable.   
  
She wants that. She _wants_ that.   
  
“Ah, sorry, Yacchan,” Matsukawa apologizes. He looks sincere with it- frustrated as well. “I gotta go.”   
  
Yachi’s lips press together and her brows furrow, but she nods her understanding- shoulders unable to keep from drooping a little and her disappointment flicking across her face. Normally she would feel guilty about that but, well, she’s sure that Matsukawa understands her dissatisfaction at being interrupted.   
  
Yachi takes a breath and she gives another nod to him, forces a small smile that she is sure looks as unconvincing as it feels.   
  
“It’s okay,” she tells him, hiding a sigh. “I understand. Go- get your friend.”   
  
He looks over her, dark eyes seeming to soak her in, and then he nods as well, turns to leave with the impatient man that had interrupted them.   
  
Yachi watches him walk away, her frustration and disappointment rising steadily. The night has fizzled out pathetically and she’s so _aggravated_ by it- so _embittered_ that her foray into something she had never had the guts to do before has fallen apart from something that isn’t even her fault.   
  
That makes it worse, she thinks. She was ready for it. She was _excited_ for it. She wasn’t going to back out.   
  
A frown weighs heavy on her face and Yachi scrunches her brows together as she watches the retreating back of her almost hookup.   
  
This isn’t fair.   
  
When is she ever going to get this chance again?   
  
Frustration rises and it gives a bolster to her gathered bravery- compels her to run forward without any fault. She grabs onto the back of Matsukawa’s shirt and they both startle at the sudden action, they both look at each other with wide eyes.   
  
A blush flares on Yachi’s face in record time and her heart _pounds_ with surprise, light mortification, _determination_.   
  
She’s never going to get what she wants if she keeps being so passive.   
  
Yachi swallows her and screws up all the courage she managed to obtain during the night, flushes even more furiously as she forces herself forward- riding on a wave of impulse and frustration and the desire to get what she wants.   
  
“I- I want your number!”   
  
It comes out much too loud and way more aggressive than Yachi thought she was capable of. Their eyes both widen even more at the demand and Yachi squeaks, embarrassed and bleeding bravery as soon as it’s used up.   
  
She lets go of his shirt and Matsukawa stares down at her, tilts his head and blinks slowly as he takes her in. Her nerves begin to rise and Yachi squirms a little under his gaze, has to fight desperately against the urge to flee.   
  
Oh, god, what was she _thinking_?   
  
“...give me your phone.”   
  
His words have her eyes so wide it’s beginning to hurt. Yachi fumbles for her phone and she unlocks it hurriedly, shoves it at him with an almost shaky breath. His fingers tap away quickly and Yachi swallows hard when he hands the phone back to her, when his lips curl into a grin.   
  
“I’ll be waiting for your call, baby doll,” Matsukawa tells her.   
  
He dips down to kiss her and has her flustering at the way his teeth nip into her bottom lip. This kiss is over in a second- much too soon- and Yachi is left standing there with wide eyes and red cheeks as Matsukawa walks away with a wave.   
  
...what?   
  
Did...did she really do that?   
  
Anxiety and embarrassment and excitement burst through Yachi in red hot waves and she _squeals_ to herself from all the emotions, from her disbelief that she did _that_.   
  
She’s never done that before. She’s never had the guts to do _anything_ like that before.   
  
She feels like she’s leveled up somehow, maybe- like she’s broke down some invisible wall that’s been holding her back.   
  
She was brave- for her. She did something she thought she could never do.   
  
And- and it feels _good_. It feels _great_.   
  
A giddy laugh leaves her and Yachi feels her lips split a grin- cheeks still flushed and her heart pounding a mile a minute.   
  
She’s going to keep tonight’s bravery. She’s going to have her fun, enjoy herself.   
  
And Matsukawa is going to help her- whether he knows it or not.   
  
Beaming, Yachi turns from the house that she doesn’t know the address to, the party raging within. She leaves the place and heads on home- thinking all the while of how she’ll compose her first text to him, how she can ask for him to come over.   
  
She’s done being the one everyone handles with kid gloves.   
  
She’s going to be something much more from now on.   
  
Head held high and lips grinning, Yachi marches on home and to her future.   


**Author's Note:**

> i think this was something i started for a kinktober? i can't remember where i was going with it originally (smut, probably), but i wanted to finish it off and get it out of the WIP pile
> 
> i'd like to follow it up with another one-shot, maybe? we'll have to see if my spoons allow it


End file.
